


Behind The Titles

by Mazuku



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazuku/pseuds/Mazuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Good evening, Ishida-san.”</p>
<p>When he hears that familiar voice, Uryuu looks down into his drink and wonders if someone has spiked it. Because that voice is Byakuya Kuchiki’s voice, but this is a tiny, crowded gay bar in the Human World. Those two things don’t mix. Or do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind The Titles

“Good evening, Ishida-san.”

When he hears that familiar voice, Uryuu looks down into his drink and wonders if someone has spiked it. Because that voice is Byakuya Kuchiki’s voice, but this is a tiny, crowded gay bar in the Human World. Those two things don’t mix. Or do they? 

“Sorry, I think I’m drunk. What’s your name?” 

“I’m hurt that you’ve forgotten me,” Byakuya is smiling. _Smiling_. And dressed in the sluttiest, tightest jeans Uryuu has ever seen. “My name is Byakuya. Does that jog your memory?” 

“Don’t be stupid, I know who you are. But what are you doing here? Are you looking for me?” 

“Not especially. But it’s nice to see you anyway.” Byakuya leans closer. He’s wearing aftershave, something dark and smoky and delicious. He’s so stupidly attractive, it’s so unfair. Why should one man have so many good points? “But as for why I’m here…well, I imagine my reasons are similar to yours.” 

Uryuu looks down at his drink again because he’s still not quite sure this isn’t an hallucination. Byakuya Kuchiki, cruising in a gay bar? It doesn’t seem to fit. Byakuya is dignified, proud, and cautious – and there’s nothing cautious about wearing your shirt half open in public. “Aren’t you worried I might tell someone I saw you here?” 

“I don’t think you would. And besides…” Byakuya is so close now that his lips are brushing Uryuu’s ear. “Who would ever believe it was true?” 

“But I thought you were married?” 

“I was. Though I don’t see why it’s relevant?”

“Don’t you…you know…like women?” 

“What a personal question,” Byakuya whispers, and now it isn’t just his lips that are close, it’s his entire body. He radiates heat, and he smells so good, and Uryuu is genuinely starting to hope he isn’t hallucinating or dreaming. “In Soul Society, it isn’t considered especially unusual to like both.” 

“Oh,” Uryuu says as Byakuya’s lips trail from his ear down to his neck, pressing soft kisses against his skin. “Oh, I must be really drunk.” 

“I assure you, I’m real.” Byakuya’s warm, firm hand slips up under the hem of Uryuu’s shirt, fingers tickling at his stomach. “But am I what you were looking for?”

“I wasn’t really looking for anyone tonight actually,” Uryuu replies, his head spinning. “I’m supposed to be here for a friend’s birthday, I just have no idea where he’s gone.” 

“A friend?” Oh, why is he so close, why is he so warm, why are his hands so insistent? 

“No-one you know. I have other friends than Kurosaki.” 

“I can’t imagine him in a place like this, it’s true.” 

Byakuya’s kisses change direction, trailing across Uryuu’s cheek slowly, maddeningly, until their lips touch. And then there’s nothing else. Just him. It isn’t as if Uryuu does this kind of thing as a habit – he isn’t gregarious or outgoing like his friends, doesn’t have the confidence to pick people up – not in the easy, nonchalant manner Byakuya seems to be picking him up right now. He wonders for a second if this is only a hobby for him, seducing humans for a casual night before going back to his manor. It makes the passion flaring up inside him die instantly. 

“What is it?” 

“Why come here? Don’t you have a hundred people trying to get in your bed in Soul Society?” 

“I do,” Byakuya admits, his eyes half-lidded and lustful. “I have my choice of the ones who want to be promoted, and the ones who want to marry into money.” 

“Oh. I didn’t think…” 

“Please, don’t allow who I am to spoil what was a very lovely kiss.” Byakuya looks rueful, resigned, and his sad expression makes something wriggle deep inside Uryuu’s stomach. He stretches up for another intoxicating kiss and Byakuya leans in to meet him, and oh, he’s a good kisser. Firm and unhurried and gentle and sweet. Uryuu surrenders, stops questioning what he’s seeing and feeling and lets Byakuya pull him up close and kiss him like the world is ending. 

But as nice as it is, eventually it becomes not enough. “I don’t live far from here,” Uryuu says in a rush. “Do you want to…?” 

“Oh, yes please,” Byakuya whispers. And he sounds so reverent and so hopeful that it makes Uryuu shiver. It’s freezing outside but Uryuu hardly feels it. He’s too busy being slightly stunned and very happy that Byakuya immediately reaches for his hand, holding it tightly as the wind billows his hair and sends it flying into his face. With his free hand he pushes it away, and smiles again. 

“It’s just round this corner,” Uryuu says, still unsure, digging his keys out of his pocket and hoping he didn’t leave his bedroom in too much of a mess. It seems to take forever to open the door – his hands don’t seem quite steady with Byakuya pressing up against his back but eventually they’re inside and the bed really is a mess, a scattered clutter of outfits he tried on and threw aside earlier but oh, who cares? 

Byakuya all but tears off his shirt as soon as the door closes, and Uryuu runs greedy hands up and down the shinigami’s chiseled abdomen, feeling the hard lines of his chest. They kiss and kiss until Uryuu is dizzy and panting and it’s then that Byakuya draws back, leaning their foreheads together. 

“What do you like?” He asks, breathless. “Tell me. Tell me…what you want me to do.” 

Uryuu isn’t sure exactly what Byakuya’s asking of him. Is he asking for the A-Z of things he likes in bed, or is he asking for something more than that? Because it almost sounds like he’s asking for orders. And there’s a funny kind of symmetry there, the Captain wanting to take orders in the bedroom because he’s tired of giving them on the battlefield, but if that isn’t what he wants… 

Uryuu stares into Byakuya’s eyes. The longer he stares the more afraid the shinigami looks, as if he’s said too much, given away more than he should have. Uryuu takes the fear as his cue. He draws up every inch of pride and haughtiness he has, tilting his chin up defiantly, and speaks. “Get on your knees,” He says firmly, and as he watches Byakuya sinks gracefully to the floor without a whisper of resistance. Clearly Uryuu was right. Clearly there are hidden depths to Byakuya Kuchiki that he’s never noticed before. 

Uryuu thinks briefly of the last time he saw Byakuya – on patrol, standing on the rooftop of an office block near the hospital. Polite, but not friendly. Professional. Businesslike. But Byakuya isn’t at work now – now he’s on the floor, on his knees, looking up with a strained, desperate expression. And if this is how Byakuya Kuchiki spends his free time, Uryuu is more than happy to spend it with him.

“Go on,” He says, and the shinigami raises careful hands to Uryuu’s waist. 

The charged atmosphere is spoiled a little as Byakuya tries and fails to undo Uryuu’s belt; clearly they don’t have anything similar in Soul Society, so the younger man unclasps it himself, opens the button of his jeans and slides down the zip. “Thank you,” Byakuya says softly, and Uryuu isn’t sure if he’s thanking him for the belt or the order. 

“Hurry up,” He says, inflecting his voice with authority, with command. “I want to watch you.” 

“Forgive me,” Byakuya breathes, looking up from under his thick, dark eyelashes. He has big hands with long fingers, but they’re nothing but gentle as they coax Uryuu’s jeans down his thighs and tug his underwear out of the way. He moans softly as his lips close over the head of Uryuu’s cock, as if he can’t think of any greater pleasure, and Uryuu feels a shudder of pleasure wriggle up his own spine.

“More,” He orders, and Byakuya seems only too eager to obey. He leans in further, taking in the rest of Uryuu’s cock inch by inch, and – God, hasn’t he got a gag reflex at all? But then, he’s had so many years to master it, hasn’t he? Either way, Uryuu feels his knees start to tremble and he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, all intentions of watching Byakuya forgotten. Without thinking he reaches out, his hand coming to rest on top of Byakuya’s head, threading through his straight, soft hair, clenching with pleasure unintentionally as gentle fingers tease his balls. Byakuya lets out a groan of pleasure so Uryuu tugs again, falling into an irregular rhythm of not-so-gentle pulls until the shinigami draws back, gasping. 

“Please,” He says softly, his eyes half-closed. “Please, may I touch myself?” 

“No,” Uryuu replies, his tone much more confident than he feels. “Not yet. Come on.” He pushes his hips forward and Byakuya takes him into his mouth again, sucking and licking with desperate devotion. Uryuu lets a gasp shudder out of him, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. It isn’t that he’s never done anything kinky like this before, but knowing who and what Byakuya is gives it an intoxicating edge – he has the power to order this strong, proud man around, to use him for his own pleasure, to dominate him completely, and it feels _good_. 

“Faster,” He says, his tone strained, and Byakuya obediently obliges. Uryuu takes hold of another handful of silken hair and winds it through his fingers before tugging sharply. “I said _faster_ ,” He hisses, and it’s like being possessed. He isn’t normally like this, but he knows what domination is supposed to look like and judging by the animalistic, desperate noises Byakuya is making he’s enjoying it too. 

Until he breaks away again, wiping his mouth with the back of one shaking hand. “I…I need…please…” 

“Beg.” 

“ _Please_ ,” Byakuya says, his voice low and hoarse. “Please…” 

“You can touch yourself. But don’t you dare stop now.” 

Uryuu watches Byakuya unbuttoning his trousers, looking down as the shinigami frees his thick, erect cock from the confines of his underwear and wraps a grateful hand around it, leaning forward with blissfully closed eyes to kiss and nuzzle at Uryuu’s cock and balls before swallowing him down again. The sudden heat makes Uryuu whimper with pleasure, his muscles stiffening. He wonders how long it’ll be before his legs give out on him. 

He wonders again, for a very brief second, if this is a dream. 

If it is, he hopes he doesn’t wake up before the finish. 

“Deeper. I want more.” Byakuya moans as he does as he’s told, and Uryuu can hear the soft, fast sound of the shinigami jerking himself off roughly. It turns him on all the more, and he realises that he can’t last much longer – not with Byakuya sucking him so expertly, not with those gorgeous, delicious noises he’s making down there on his knees. “Oh! I’m going to come!” 

He wonders if Byakuya prefers to spit or swallow, and is therefore surprised when at the very last second the shinigami pulls back, holding Uryuu’s cock in place so that come spills all over his face in thick spurts. He’s still fisting his own cock roughly with his free hand and as Uryuu watches, wondering when the polite moment is to run for a towel, he makes a gasping, desperate noise and comes all over his hand and the tatami. 

“Thank you,” He says again, breathless. 

“I think I should be thanking you,” Uryuu replies. “Stay there, I’ll get a cloth.” 

He hitches his trousers back up and on rather unsteady legs goes to the bathroom. The mirror tells him what he already knows; his cheeks are a furious pink and his hands are shaking. He grabs a towel from the cupboard and walks back out into his living room – good God, has he really just had sex in his living room? – to find Byakuya still on the floor, sitting now rather than kneeling. 

Feeling tender and protective, Uryuu wipes Byakuya’s face clean and watches raptly as the shinigami’s dark eyes flutter open. Uryuu wonders how such a stunning man ended up in his house, and he also wonders where he found the nerve to give orders to a man who could crush him like an insect. In the heat of the moment it had seemed completely natural, but now it seems so horribly presumptuous. 

“Shower?” He asks, suddenly shy. 

“That would be nice.” Byakuya’s voice is husky, and the sound of it makes Uryuu’s stomach flip. They get to their feet, and it’s only then that Uryuu realises that apart from Byakuya’s hastily discarded shirt they’re both still fully dressed. And looking at the gorgeous, muscled chest across from him makes him suddenly so self-conscious. Maybe he doesn’t need a shower after all… 

“You’re nervous.” It isn’t a question. Uryuu pulls together the leftover scraps of his courage so that he can answer. 

“You’re so good-looking,” He says. “And…I’m not.”

“I disagree,” Byakuya replies evenly. “I like men with slender figures and long legs.” He leans closer, the same way that he did all that time ago in the club, and licks the shell of Uryuu’s ear. “I want you to wrap them around me as I fuck you senseless.” Byakuya exhales softly. “Sometimes I take great pleasure from not being in control. But not always. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Uryuu whispers in return, surprised by Byakuya’s frankness.  He isn’t used to people telling him so unequivocally what they want. Normally it requires a certain amount of guesswork, of sensitivity, but Byakuya seems to have no shame whatsoever about his desires. Maybe it’s because he’s a shinigami – or maybe he’s just used to getting what he wants, being a noble. “Um, we should…shower,” Uryuu says, leading the way over to the bathroom. 

He can’t help but turn his back as he takes off his clothes beside the shower cubicle, but Byakuya is undeterred by his instinctive attempt at modesty. He runs appreciative, smooth hands down Uryuu’s back and kisses his neck and shoulders, kicking away his own trousers as he does. “I’ve never used a shower before,” He confesses. “We don’t have them in Soul Society.” 

“They’re much more convenient,” Uryuu replies – and isn’t this conversation entirely too bizarre to be having at this exact moment? Uryuu has never had to explain the merits of showers to a sexual partner before in his life, and he almost wants to laugh. This is weird. Seriously weird. But it’s also very nice. He sets the shower going and waits for it to heat up before getting in. “Come on,” He says, beckoning, and once Byakuya is inside as well he closes the door. 

In seconds Byakuya’s hair is soaked, plastered against his skin like an inky wave, covering his back and shoulders, stretching down his chest and across his face. Uryuu’s glasses fog up and he hangs them on the rack he keeps his toiletries on. Byakuya’s image turns fuzzy at the edges, but he can see well enough to know that the shinigami is staring at him. 

“You have beautiful eyes.” 

“Do I?” Uryuu can’t recall anyone ever saying that to him before. He’s been told he has a nice backside before now, but no-one has ever even mentioned his eyes. 

“Yes.” Byakuya leans closer, his face coming into sharper focus. He looks serious. “Close them.”

“Okay…” 

Byakuya kisses one closed eyelid and then the other. Kisses Uryuu’s forehead and nose, and both of his cheeks. It doesn’t feel especially sexy – in fact, it’s the most romantic gesture anyone’s shown Uryuu since his last boyfriend dumped him before moving to South Korea months ago. And maybe it’s just the leftover adrenalin buzzing in his veins, but it makes him feel so emotional. So vulnerable. 

“You’re exquisite,” Byakuya says softly, his voice almost lost beneath the hiss of the shower. And without asking – without needing to ask, because Uryuu would never have said no – he picks up Uryuu’s soap and starts to rub it into his skin, cleaning his body with deft hands. Under his arms, into the cleft of his backside, there seems to be no place Byakuya is afraid to touch. It’s only when he moves down to Uryuu’s groin, fingers brushing softly through his public hair and down onto his cock, that the younger man reacts. “Nh! Too much!” He gasps out, jerking his body away instinctively. 

“Still sensitive?” Byakuya asks, and Uryuu can only nod. “What do you wash your hair with?” 

Without opening his eyes Uryuu points. “The orange bottle.” The cap clicks open and Uryuu gives a soft noise of appreciation as Byakuya starts to massage shampoo into his scalp, the citrus scent of it bursting into the air around them. This all seems too intimate for a one-night stand, but Uryuu certainly isn’t complaining when Byakuya is so gentle, angling the shower head so that it washes away the suds. 

“Would you help me to wash my hair?” The shinigami asks when Uryuu is fully clean. 

Uryuu nods, turning his face away from the spray of the shower and wiping the water out of his eyes. “Turn around.” Squinting, he squeezes the rest of the bottle of shampoo out onto the thick curtain of Byakuya’s hair, and he soon realises how much of an effort it must be to look after it day-in day-out. He buries his hands in it, scrubbing the shampoo up into a lather, running his hands down Byakuya’s flawless back, massaging his shoulders.  He slides his hands down to Byakuya’s waist, feels his way around the shinigami’s pronounced hipbones, trails them up to play over his well-defined stomach muscles, sighs softly and sinks against his lover, pressing his cheek against one firm shoulder-blade. The suds are running slowly out of Byakuya’s hair and down his back, hugging the natural lines and curves of his body. His gorgeous, toned, exemplary body. 

Uryuu closes his eyes and moves both hands up Byakuya’s chest, coming to rest just under his ribs, where he can feel a steady, thudding heartbeat. He counts, getting to thirty-four before he’s interrupted by Byakuya taking hold of his wrists and guiding his hands upwards. To his nipples. And when Uryuu pinches them gently Byakuya exhales sharply and arches his back, pushing his chest into the touch. “Not too hard,” He says, and Uryuu makes himself content with rolling the stiffening flesh between his damp fingers. Before long the effect it has on Byakuya is affecting him too; he’s ready to go again, his cock stiffening as the shinigami in front of him gasps and shudders with pleasure, arms braced against the tiled wall. 

“Can I take you to bed?” Byakuya asks between muffled moans.

“Yes,” Uryuu replies without even stopping to think about it. His legs still aren’t quite steady but he manages to stay upright as he gets out of the shower. He towels himself dry roughly, watching as Byakuya squeezes the worst of the water out of his hair. It hangs in thick strands, glistening, framing flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, and Byakuya is still damp as he lunges forwards and presses Uryuu up against the bathroom cabinet, kissing him with desperate frenzy.

Uryuu isn’t sure how they even manage to get to the bed, and he’s dimly aware that they’re about to fuck among his abandoned going-out clothes but – what does it matter? If they get dirty he’ll just have to wash them later. He isn’t about to stop kissing Byakuya, not for clothes, not for anything. Not when he’s so good at it, so fiery, so forceful and oh, who would have imagined that stiff and starchy Captain Kuchiki could be so passionate? But under all that uniform he’s a man – a man who clearly knows his way around another man’s body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” The shinigami pants. “Can I take you now?”

“God yes,” Uryuu replies. “How do you want me?” 

“However you enjoy it most.” 

Uryuu wriggles out from under Byakuya and crawls his way up the bed. First he fishes in his top drawer for lube, and then he looks over his shoulder. The moonlight spilling in through the gap in the curtains cuts across Byakuya’s chest, highlighting his defined muscles, leaving his face in shadow. He’s gorgeous – so gorgeous, and for another horrible second Uryuu thinks he has to be imagining this. That is, until Byakuya crawls up behind him and drags his hips backwards, pressing his hard cock against the cleft of Uryuu’s backside, thrusting gently, teasing. 

“Do you have some oil?” It takes Uryuu a second to realise that that must be what they use for preparation in Soul Society – how old-fashioned. 

“Not oil. This.” He hands the lube over blindly, hears the click of the bottle cap and suddenly feels sick with anticipation, his stomach churning with excitement – and a tiny bit of fear. Unfounded fear, it turns out. Byakuya’s fingers are insistent but gentle, and he moves slowly. One finger at first, in and out, curling, teasing, and then another finger, and another, and he seems to know where all the places are that Uryuu wants – needs – to be touched, seems to know exactly how fast and exactly how hard to go to make him buck his hips and moan. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Go for it,” Uryuu gasps. And gasps again, devolving into a soft whimper as Byakuya lines himself up and pushes inside. His cock is too big, too thick, it’s uncomfortable and painful and it’s only when the shinigami starts to fondle Uryuu’s balls, reaching around his shivering body with a long, graceful arm, that it starts to feel nice. “If it’s too much, we don’t have to…” 

“It’s been a while,” Uryuu manages to reply. “Just…keep touching me…” Byakuya takes a firm grip on Uryuu’s cock and starts to stroke him, and as he relaxes into the sensation he starts to instinctively rock back, taking Byakuya a little deeper each time. “Take me,” He says. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Then take me gently.” He says it without really thinking about it, but as Byakuya starts to push in and out of him slowly, tenderly, he’s glad he did. It’s been too long since someone made love to him, rather than just fucking him as hard and fast as possible, and when Byakuya angles his body so that he can kiss his back and shoulders he almost feels like crying – in a nice way. 

“It’s good!” He chokes out, letting his arms fold, resting his forehead on them. “So good!” 

“More than good,” Byakuya replies, with another smooth roll of his hips. “You feel amazing.” He sits back up, wet hair dragging sensually across Uryuu’s skin, and changes his grip on the younger man’s hips. “You have a beautiful body. And the noises you make…” 

“D-Don’t be embarrassing!” 

“It isn’t embarrassing. It’s enticing.” Byakuya’s tone is firm. “You’re exquisite.” 

No-one has ever treated Uryuu like this, not even the handful of serious boyfriends he’s had over the years. No-one has ever spoken to him as if he’s anything out of the ordinary, and here is Byakuya – is it really Byakuya? Uryuu isn’t quite sure he believes it even now – treating him like he’s precious and rare. And suddenly he wants to give Byakuya everything – to hold back nothing, to allow himself to be defenceless. “I need you,” He moans. “I need it harder. Deeper.” 

“Anything. I’ll give you anything. You have only to say it.” And he changes his pace, pulling Uryuu back into every forward thrust of his hips. And without even thinking about it, Uryuu lets go. Later he remembers throwing his head back and crying out, remembers sobbing with pleasure and begging for more, but as it’s happening it’s all a blur that ends with him clawing at the sheets beneath him, letting out one last shout of pleasure as he spills himself all over the blankets. 

“Oh!” Byakuya gasps in his ear, still fucking him fast and deep. “You’re so beautiful!” A few more thrusts, a few more soft moans from Uryuu as the very last of his orgasm is wrung out of him, and Byakuya gives a final muffled groan, stiffening, jerking his hips as he comes deep inside Uryuu. For a few seconds the only noise in the room is them both panting, until Byakuya pulls out slowly. Equally slowly – because all of his muscles seem to have turned to jelly – Uryuu lowers himself down onto the mattress. He doesn’t think too deeply about it when Byakuya joins him, pressing up against his back and laying a possessive arm over his waist. He just enjoys it. 

Sleepy, satisfied thoughts fog his mind. He’s aware of the blankets beneath him  and the warm, firm presence of Byakuya behind him. He’s aware of his own pulse, because he can still feel it thudding in his ears and in the tips of his fingers, and for a few lazy, languid minutes he counts his heartbeats and doesn’t think about anything else. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mm-hm.” Uryuu can’t even summon up his powers of speech, so he tries to relate his complete okay-ness by tone alone.

“Would you mind if I stayed the night with you?” 

For the first time since coming, Uryuu opens his eyes. His glasses are still hanging up in the shower, but even without them he can see all the mess heaped in the hazy shadows of his bedroom floor, the clothes spilling out of the open wardrobe, the scattered boots and shoes, and that’s nothing to speak of the clutter of eyeliner and nail varnish on his vanity table. It all seems so little and silly and human all of a sudden, and why would someone as rich and grand as Byakuya even want to be there? Why would anyone want to be there, in fact? 

“Do you _want_ to stay?” Uryuu asks, surprised. He’s used to the usual excuses from people he’s slept with – I can’t stay, I need to go home to feed my dog, I wish I could sleep over, but I have to be up early for work – and somehow he hadn’t expected anything different this time even though, admittedly, Byakuya is completely different to every other man he’s ever brought home before. 

“Well…yes,” Byakuya replies. “Though if you don’t want me to…”

“No, stay.” Uryuu brings up one of his hands and draws it up his body, picking up Byakuya’s hand on the way and pulling it up to his chest, hugging it tightly against himself. Byakuya sighs in satisfaction, his thumb brushing backwards and forwards over Uryuu’s skin reassuringly.

“So…do you do this kind of thing a lot?” The younger man asks idly, closing his eyes again. 

“No. It was only recently that I decided to try it. I was tired of insincere flattery, and I reasoned that humans have no ulterior motive to be nice to me.” 

“Apart from wanting to get you to come home with them, you mean.” 

Byakuya made a soft noise of amusement. “That, in its own way, is sincere. It’s hardly offering to sleep with me in return for a promotion.”

“Do people do that?” Uryuu asks, blunt in his sleepiness. 

“Yes. Some are less subtle about it than others.” 

“Huh.” Uryuu considers this conundrum. “Well, I don’t want a promotion. I wouldn’t be in the Gotei 13 if you made me Captain-Commander and gave me a trillion yen.”

There is a second of silence and then Byakuya starts to laugh. He has a nice laugh, soft and rich, and he cuddles up closer, kissing Uryuu’s hair fondly. “Indeed. I half expected you to tell me to go away when I first came over to you, since you’re no fan of shinigami.” 

“I don’t _hate_ shinigami. Or not all of them, anyway. Just the ones that deserve it.” 

“Then I’ll take the fact that I’m here as a compliment.” Byakuya nudges his knee between Uryuu’s legs, bringing them closer still, and Uryuu can’t help but feel that this is too intimate, too loving for a one-night stand. He wonders if perhaps Byakuya wants more than a quick hit of satisfaction, and toys with the idea of a shinigami boyfriend. Ryuuken wouldn’t like it, but when has Ryuuken’s opinion ever held him back from something he really wanted? Of course there’s Rukia – Uryuu has the sneaking suspicion that she’ll kill him for touching her precious ‘Nii-sama’, but since he already has it seems pretty immaterial at this point if he touches him again. And there are so, so many places he wants to touch Byakuya… 

“Actually…” Byakuya sighs softly. “I suppose I wasn’t entirely honest earlier.” 

“Oh?” The warm, fuzzy images of boyfriend-Byakuya fade to nothing, replaced by a sinking, heavy feeling. 

“Tonight was the first time I came to the human world to do anything but reconnoiter. I thought I would find myself with a stranger, but when I saw you…I realised I didn’t want a stranger. I only wanted…” 

“Someone who didn’t want to use you?” 

“Quite.” Byakuya’s warm fingers trail languorously down Uryuu’s chest, coming to settle on his hip. “Your body is so…” 

“Skinny?” 

“Luscious.”

Uryuu can’t help but snort, because he knows it isn’t true, but Byakuya ignores the self-deprecation and buries his face in his neck like he’s the most attractive person on the planet and nibbles at his skin, making him squirm and wriggle. “Don’t, that tickles!” But Byakuya doesn’t stop – he only starts to use his tongue as well, running it up Uryuu’s jugular hard and flat. “S-Stop it…no, wait, don’t stop it…” 

Byakuya makes a soft, amused noise in the back of his throat and Uryuu closes his eyes again. Three times in one night? He’d always thought that kind of thing only happened in porn films or hentai novels, but his body is reacting so strongly to Byakuya’s touch it’s unreal. With desperate, exhausted passion Uryuu turns over for a kiss and Byakuya’s hand slips between his legs, sure and steady fingers teasing his balls. It’s too much and at the same time nowhere near enough. Uryuu presses himself closer, his tired muscles already starting to shake.

“I want to do so many things to you,” Byakuya says, his voice unsteady. “More things than I could ever fit into one night.” Uryuu is too far gone to reply but he really hopes it’s true and not just a throwaway endearment. He clenches his eyes shut, letting out a half-gasp, half-whine, and reaches up to snatch his fingers through Byakuya’s still-damp hair. “You sound so good,” The shinigami says, his voice a satisfied purr. 

“Shut up about how I sound!” Uryuu snaps in return, needled with self-consciousness. Byakuya pulls his hand away and Uryuu makes a petulant noise of protest, thinking he’s being punished. And then there’s a click. The sucking, slurping noise of the lube bottle being squeezed. And then Byakuya’s hand is back and it’s so cold, but there’s another hard cock sliding up against his own and- “Oh! Oh, fuck!”

Byakuya seems to still have so much energy – his hips are so forceful, his rhythm so punishing that Uryuu can’t actually think any more. He grabs onto Byakuya desperately and moans until he’s sobbing, gasping, and finally coming and so is Byakuya and it’s sticky and messy and wonderful and he speaks before he even thinks about it. “Let’s go out together,” He gasps. 

“Now?” Byakuya sounds incredulous, and Uryuu realises that that piece of slang must have never made it to Soul Society. 

“Be my boyfriend,” He tries, before the high fades and he turns shy again. 

“Gladly,” Byakuya replies. 

And, still messy but without the energy to care, Uryuu nuzzles himself against Byakuya’s chest and closes his eyes. The shinigami puts an arm around him, squeezing him tightly, and Uryuu thinks he might just be falling in love – just a little. As sleep reaches out to take him he tries out boyfriend-Byakuya in his imagination. And somehow, even though there are so many inconvenient details like his being a shinigami and him having a worse-than-full-time job, it fits.

 

*

 

Uryuu wakes up slowly, on his back, with a warm, heavy arm laying across his stomach. Blinking hazily, he looks down to find someone in bed with him – and – oh. The night before comes back to him as a series of wild images – Byakuya in his skintight jeans chatting him up in the bar, Byakuya on his knees begging, Byakuya’s shining, wet hair after they’d showered, and then…well… 

Uryuu shifts, and his muscles protest the movement. He’s sore, but his memories tell him it was all worth it. Even if, even now, he’s still having trouble processing just who it is sharing his bed with him. Byakuya’s hair is all over the place, spread out all over the blankets, all over the pillows, covering his face. But it’s him. No human lookalike would have had to be shown how to use a shower, after all. 

“I would give anything to turn the clock back and sleep for a few more hours.” And that’s definitely Byakuya’s voice. It’s unmistakable. 

“You could call in sick.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t. The academy graduation ceremony is today and I have to be there.”

Byakuya unfolds himself, sitting up and running a sleepy hand through his hair. He’s so…fit. So toned. Uryuu reflects that really, the Byakuya most people see is nothing more than a costume. Under those shapeless clothes he has the figure of a god, without his polite professionalism he is passionate and sweet, and behind his titles he is really only a man. A very handsome, sensual, _nice_ man. 

A man. Not some immature idiot. A real man, confident and easy in his sexuality, considerate, kind. 

“If you’re still tired, you should go back to sleep.” 

“Hm? I’m not tired, just thinking.” 

“Oh?” 

“Last night was nice.” Uryuu closes his eyes, hoping for courage. “Did you…mean what you said? About…you know. Seeing each other again?” 

“I did. Though…” Byakuya sighs, and Uryuu waits for the bad news, his heart sinking. 

“What is it?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to mislead you,” Byakuya says, his expression ominously serious. “What I mean to say is…I’m a captain. I don’t have a lot of free time. I won’t be able to see you every day, and I don’t want to be duplicitous and let you think that I will.” 

Is that all? Uryuu almost wants to laugh. The last time he had this kind of conversation, the man in question turned out to be married with two children. “I’m not a cat, you don’t have to come over every day to feed me,” He replies. 

“I only wanted to be sure that you understood my situation.” 

“I get it. And I don’t mind. I like having my own space.” 

Byakuya looks over at the closed curtains, as if he’s afraid to make eye contact. “Then…are you busy tonight? There’s always a party after the graduation ceremony, but I don’t need to be there all evening. If…well, if you aren’t busy.” 

He’s shy, Uryuu realises. Put him in a relationship and not on a battlefield and he’s as shy and worried and insecure as everyone else. Somehow, knowing that actually makes Byakuya all the more alluring. “I’m not busy,” Uryuu replies. “Well, I have some sewing to do, but nothing urgent.” 

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your work.” 

“I’m making curtains for my father’s bathroom, and he doesn’t need them until it’s been refitted. I’m really in no hurry. What time?” 

“Sunset?” Byakuya offers. Uryuu has never heard a time being arranged more romantically and can’t help but smile, resting his chin on the back of one hand luxuriously. 

“Sunset,” He echoes. And Byakuya smiles back. 

“I must go,” He says ruefully. “Or I’ll be missed.” He stands, gathering up his clothes and pulling them on with remarkable haste – but then, as a soldier he probably has to be quick to the draw at getting dressed – before walking to the window. And that’s novel as well, because Uryuu is fairly sure no-one else has ever used his bedroom window as a door before. “Until sunset, then.” Byakuya says softly. 

Uryuu nods, and in a flutter of fabric and an inrush of air Byakuya is gone. For a few seconds Uryuu’s mind convinces him that everything that just happened was a lovely dream – until he sees the long, dark hairs still clinging to the pillow. Proof. Confirmation. Evidence of a night spent having mind-blowing sex with a shinigami captain – Captain Kuchiki, no less. Though now Uryuu knows, of course, that when he isn’t at work Byakuya isn’t all that fierce or intimidating at all. Feeling as if he’s privy to a great secret, he rolls himself up in his blankets and starts counting down the hours until sunset.


End file.
